


The bread and the knife

by kormantic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/F, F/M, John is ridiculous, Lounging, Poetry, Ronon is a cutie pie, Talking about boys, Teyla and John are bros, goofy dating, tipsy in the sun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21887803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kormantic/pseuds/kormantic
Summary: Jennifer asks for dating advice.
Relationships: Ronon Dex/Jennifer Keller, Ronon Dex/John Sheppard, Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 24
Collections: Stargate Atlantis Secret Santa 2019





	The bread and the knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DorothyOz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorothyOz/gifts).



In the drowsy shade of a lush gival tree, Jennifer lounged beside a gleaming poisoned lake with a glass of nisv and good company. John was two or three glasses ahead of her, and sprawled in the webbed chair the Bilix people employed when they relaxed, his bare feet propped companionably in Teyla’s lap. Like Jennifer, she was still on her first serving of the syrupy stuff; its hot-pink glow was unexpectedly flattering to Teyla’s already lovely complexion.

“This, see this,” John said, waving lazily, “Is what every off-planet trip should be, should be like.”

Smiling, Teyla patted one bony ankle and said, “I agree. It has been some time since I last felt so pleasantly at ease.”

“I don’t think I’ve had a vacation in… six years?” Jennifer blinked at the dazzle glancing off the water. It was a black mirror, and so acidic that the Bilix had fenced it with a latticed net that curved above the water like a bowl of lace or a wind-blown wedding veil. “That can’t be right.”

Honestly, she’d never imagined that a whitebread try-hard from Wisconsin would be vacationing in another galaxy with an alien and a jet pilot. 

“I wouldn’t know, kid. You’ve only been here six months.” John’s sunglasses hid his eyes, but his voice was as syrupy as the nisv. 

“But I am told that one month in Atlantis is equivalent to seven dog years,” Teyla said, ever supportive.

“Seven _Earth_ years,” John corrected helpfully. He took another swig of his beverage and sighed, replete. “That’s the stiff. The stuff. The stiff stuff.”

“How much wine do you have to have before I can ask you about Ronon?”

John flexed his toes and propped his sunglasses on his forehead.

“What about him,” he asked, his voice slow and comically suspicious.

“John,” Teyla said reprovingly. “I believe she would ask your advice.”

“Well. And your blessing. I mean. You used to date, right?”

Frowning, John asked, “Who the hell told you _that_?”

Horrified, Jennifer bolted upright, nearly upsetting her drink.

“Oh my god, oh my GOD, I am so sorry, I just assumed—“

John began to make a weird honking sound that Jennifer eventually realized was laughter. Teyla looked unimpressed.

“For a brief time, Ronon was assigned to another team. During that short while, Ronon courted him. Of course, that was before he knew that Doctor McKay was also… interested.”

“Yikes. What did Rodney do to him?”

Teyla cocked an eyebrow.

“Do? He would not hurt Ronon. Even if he could. No, they simply both competed for John’s hand.”

Falling back against her chair, Jennifer stared at John.

“What was _that_ like?”

“Deeply fucking weird. Also hilarious.” A grin stretched across his face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, having people fight for your sexual favors must be someone’s idea of a good time, but it wasn’t mine, not by a longshot.”

“And yet you look so pleased in recounting it,” Teyla said, taking a prim sip of her icy nisv.

“At the time it was mostly excruciating? But looking back, it was kind of fun.”

“Did they, like, shower you with gifts?”

“Hell yeah, there were a _lot_ of weapons. Rodney has kind of a one upmanship thing going on.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed, believe me.”

“But I never actually dated him. He wasn’t even ever really in the running.”

“John had already been in love with Rodney for some time.”

“Oh shut up,” John said without heat, resettling his sunglasses and reclining once more. “Anyway, if you want advice, it’s Teyla you should be asking. They’ve been banging since he got here.”

“Really?!” Jennifer didn’t know why she felt surprised; after all, the first thing she’d thought when she’d met Ronon had been, “Hubba fucking _hubba_ holy hell.”

Teyla inclined her head.

“I believe the term is ‘friends with benefits’. He is an ardent and attentive lover. Of course, now that I am with Kanaan, he is ‘fair game’.”

“Hot, single and in your area,” John snickered.

“Is he a good kisser?”

“Yes,” John and Teyla responded, sounding both certain and insistent.

“Huh. Do you think I have a chance with him?”

“Given that he’s been brushing up his knife throwing and his recitation skills, I’m gonna go with ‘yes’.”

“Jennifer, I agree with John. Ronon truly eyes you with favor and fondness. I would even go so far as to say you are his ‘type’.” 

Snorting into her cup, Jennifer said, “What’s he gonna do, juggle knives while he reads me poetry?”

“Well... yeah.”

“Essentially,” Teyla added.

“This whole place is so weird,” Jennifer muttered.

*

Two days later, Ronon stepped into the transporter with her just before the door closed. He cleared his throat and rubbed at the side of his neck, studying one corner of the little room with forced interest.

“So. Hey!” Jennifer tried.

“Uh. Hey.” 

This close, he smelled like leather and sunlit spices. Edging a little closer, she let her arm brush his. He turned to look at her, tilting his leonine head.

“John said. That you liked poetry.”

“Oh.”

“There’s this poem that I really like. Um. Would you like to hear it?”

He blinked at her, and she felt her ears go as bright as the nisv she’d been drinking with Teyla.

“It’s just. I really don’t think you’d be impressed with my knife skills and…”

“I’d like that,” he said, stalling her shame spiral. “I do. Like poetry.”

The transporter doors opened, and a little crowd of marines jostled past them, bringing Jennifer back to herself. She reached out and took Ronon’s hand.

“Come on, then. I’ll buy you a grilled cheese in the commissary, first. I’ll need to butter you up, because my poetry skills are maybe six percent better than my knife juggling.”

Ronon squeezed her hand and nodded, smiling like the sun.

“OK.”

* 

Lines from the Billy Collins poem

[LITANY](https://www.lyrikline.org/en/poems/litany-7640)

You are the bread and the knife,  
the crystal goblet and the wine.  
You are the dew on the morning grass  
and the burning wheel of the sun.  
You are the white apron of the baker,  
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,  
the plums on the counter,  
or the house of cards.  
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.  
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,  
... but you are not even close  
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

...

It might interest you to know,  
... that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,  
the evening paper blowing down an alley  
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees  
and the blind woman's tea cup.  
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.  
You are still the bread and the knife.  
You will always be the bread and the knife,  
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this rings the bells for you! Have a splendid 2020.


End file.
